Peter Tremayne - Badger's Moon

‘As you can see.’

‘You do not know when Liag arrived here?’

Tómma shrugged. ‘All I know is that I was here alone with Bébháil when he appeared from that woodland path and that was after the tanist and the Saxon brother had left.’

Fidelma found herself having to undo the clothing of the corpse in order to make her examination. It became obvious that Lesren had been stabbed several times, judging from the wounds about the neck and chest. The jagged wounds spoke of a frenzied attack with a blunt knife. The wounds were not the clean cuts which one might expect from a hunting knife or — the thought came unbidden into her mind — a physician’s scalpel. Lesren had been stabbed twice in the back of the neck, once in the throat and once in the chest.

She stood up and shook her head slowly. It was useless trying to learn anything further from the corpse. Fidelma gave only a cursory glance around but it was obvious that there were no signs of the discarded weapon or any other significant item, and too much movement had taken place after Lesren’s death for there to be any meaningful clues.

‘Let us find Bébháil,’ she said. ‘You’d best stay here, Tómma. Make sure that no one does anything further with this corpse until I say so.’

When they were out of earshot of Tómma, Accobrán moved to her side and said with quiet vehemence: ‘Upon reflection, there are only a couple of real suspects in this case. I think I should go to apprehend them.’

Fidelma glanced at him, knowing what was in his mind but wishing him to make his thoughts clear. ‘Who may these suspects be?’

The tanist gestured in impatience. ‘As we have already discussed, lady. Who but Goll or his son Gabrán? Having heard how Lesren still accused Gabrán, and the hurtful contempt in which he held that family, I know what I would do if I was filled with youthful pride and anger.’

‘What you might do does not mean that someone else has done it.’

‘I believe the killer of Lesren will be found at the woodcutter’s homestead.’

‘You may well be right, Accobrán,’ agreed Fidelma. ‘However, I shall conduct my investigation in my own way, adhering to the priorities that I have set.’

They found Bébháil sitting in a chair before her hearth. She looked up, dry-eyed but with pinched, strained features, as they entered. Then she turned her gaze back to the embers of the fire.

‘It is sorrowful to me to be in life after Lesren has departed from this world,’ she muttered.

Her voice was wooden, without feeling. Fidelma glanced at her companions and motioned, them to withdraw, for she felt it best if she talked to the widow by herself. When they had done so, she seated herself opposite the woman.

‘Bébháil, I am sorry to ask these questions, but if we are to find the killer of Lesren, then they must be asked. When did you last see your husband?’

The woman stared at her for some time as if not recognising her. It took several times of asking before she formed a proper answer. Lesren had had his midday meal and gone outside to continue his work. Some time later, Bébháil did not know how long, Tómma had called to say he and Creoda were looking for Lesren. They had gone off to search. Then Tómma had returned with the news of their discovery. She had stayed with the body while Tómma had gone to find Becc or Accobrán at Rath Raithlen.

Fidelma listened intently as the woman confirmed Tómma’s account.

‘Where was Liag during this time?’ she asked quickly.

Bébháil blinked. ‘The apothecary?’

‘He was here, wasn’t he?’ pressed Fidelma.

‘He came after the tanist had ridden off with your Saxon companion.’

‘How was that?’

‘Tómma and I were with the body when Liag suddenly emerged from the woods nearby. There is a small footpath that comes through the woods near where Lesren was found.’

‘Where does the footpath lead?’

‘Up to Rath Raithlen, to the fortress.’

‘Did Liag seem surprised to see the body?’

‘Surprised?’ The woman frowned and gave a quick shake of her head. ‘Liag never expresses surprise.’

‘What did he do?’

‘He examined Lesren and said that he was dead. Then he told me that I ought to lay out the body before the limbs grew cold. That I should prepare the body for the funereal rites.’

Fidelma’s lips thinned. ‘So it was on the specific instructions of Liag that you washed and prepared the body?’

‘It was.’

Fidelma wondered what had motivated Liag. Had he purposely set out to destroy evidence or had he done so from ignorance? She tried to put the questions to the back of her mind because there would be no answers until she spoke to Liag.

‘During the time between Lesren’s leaving the bothán and the finding of the body, did you hear or see anything unusual?’

Bébháil shook her head. ‘I knew nothing until Tómma called me.’

‘You were not aware of anyone else here or around the tannery during this time?’

‘No one.’

‘Have you any idea who might have done this?’

Bébháil regarded her with large, dark eyes.

‘My husband was not a man who was well liked, lady,’ she said softly. ‘You must already know that he had several enemies. However, I will not lift a finger to point in any direction.’

Fidelma was quiet for a moment or two, Then she said, ‘Have you ever heard the name of Biobhal spoken? It sounds very similar to your own name, I know. But it seems your husband was calling it out when he died.’

Bébháil frowned and shook her head rapidly.

‘There is no one in these parts who has such a name,’ she said simply. ‘Biobhal? Are you sure that he was not calling out my name?’

‘Tómma was sure and apparently Creoda also heard it.’

‘I know of no such name, lady.’

Fidelma gave her a smile of reassurance. ‘I have done with my questions. Can I do anything for you, Bébháil? Can you call on anyone to come and be with you? Is there anyone who is able to make the funeral arrangements for you?’

‘I have a sister who lives nearby. Tómma will fetch her for me.’ Her voice was low and measured and still without emotion. Fidelma rose, reached forward and laid a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder.

‘I will ask the tanist to do so. Tómma should stay here until your relatives arrive so that you are not alone.’

‘Alone?’ Bébháil sighed. ‘Ah! Let the days of lamentation begin for my man was alive and now is dead. Cry and clap your hands and sing the Nuall-guba , the lamentation of sorrow.’

‘It shall be done with all ceremony, Bébháil,’ Fidelma assured her solemnly in answer to the ritual instruction of one who has suffered the death of a near one. She called for Accobrán to come in to receive instructions from Bébháil.

She was about to turn from the room when she caught sight of a small piece of glinting polished metal standing on a table. She frowned and took it up in her hand. It was heavy and there was a glint of metallic yellow about it.

‘You appear rich, Bébháil,’ she said quietly. ‘This is a large gold nugget.’

‘Let me see!’ Accobrán demanded, reaching out his hand and taking it from her. He seemed abruptly curt. He turned it over for a moment or two and then put it carelessly back in place. ‘It’s only iron pyrites — fool’s gold,’ he said. Was it relief that Fidelma heard in his voice?

‘Ah,’ Fidelma said softly. ‘ Non teneas aurum totum quod splendet ut aurum .’

Bébháil continued to sit without moving as if she no longer saw nor heard them.

Outside, Fidelma told Tómma what was intended and while she was speaking to him Accobrán followed her out and informed her that he had agreed to undertake the task of arranging the funeral obsequies.